Spark
by Ameko
Summary: a short little piece, post-game, quistis/seifer, inspired slightly by tori amos's spark, but it's NOT a songfic


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Spark

Quistis stubbed out her cigarette on the low wall she was sitting on. A chill wind blew, and she pulled her jacket closer to her, shivering. 

Nasty habit, smoking. She'd have to give it up. It was pointless. Five minutes outside freezing to death in the December cold, and all for what? A chest full of smoke. Brilliant reward. 

She couldn't remember when she'd started smoking, or why. Oh, yes. Right after Ultimecia. Seeing Squall with Rinoa every day had driven her mad and she didn't have anything to fall back on. That was when she had discovered the joy of cigarettes. 

It'd been two years. Two long, hard years. Her life was shit, basically. She hadn't gotten her job back, and she wasn't really sure if she wanted it, anyway. Teaching kids who went off to get themselves killed wasn't exactly her idea of a perfect life. 

What was a perfect life, anyway? No one had one, except of course Squall and Rinoa. You'd think after two years they'd run into some problems, or have a fight or something like that. No, not them. They were still the model couple. 

Well, damn them. Damn them to the nine hells and everyone else too. 

She sighed. This was what she did most of the time. Nostalgia and misery were her best friends. 

Finishing her second cigarette, she threw the butt away and slid off the wall. The streets of Deling City were busy as usual, it being the week before Christmas. Thankfully, no one she knew was here. She wasn't sure she could face her friends right now. 

Walking down the crowded street, she studied the shop windows carefully. Seeing a bookstore, she smiled a little to herself and went in. 

It smelled of paper and ink and processed books, a comforting, familiar smell. She spent a good deal of her lonely days reading, now. Browsing through the aisles, she came across a row of weapon books, books on care and maintenance and weapon history. 

There was the whip, and nunchuka, and several pinwheel variations. Shoved way in the back, as if it was hidden, there was a book on Gunblades. Smiling slightly, she picked it up and paged through it. 

It fell open to a picture of a Hyperion, and her thoughts turned to Seifer. The blond, broad-shouldered young man hadn't been seen or heard from in over a year. Rumor said he'd retired to a small house off the coast of Balamb, but he'd also been sighted in timber and Dollet. 

Edea had claimed he'd been seduced by the sorceress, and he was pardoned, but apparently he didn't want to face his old rival and other schoolmates. 

When she was younger she'd had a crush on him, but then she'd met Squall and all feelings for Seifer had been forgotten. It was probably for the best, after all. He was so arrogant...

She put the book back on the shelf, carefully, but then she picked it up again, and absentmindedly, flipped back to the Hyperion picture. 

"Do you mind?" A familiar voice behind her asked. She turned around. Funny that she'd just been thinking about him. 

"Quisty?" Seifer asked. The others hadn't been the only ones who called her that. 

"Seifer! How are you? No one's heard from you in so long."

"Good. That was the idea." He said, and then in a slightly nicer tone, "You don't have to pretend to be glad to see me."

"I'm not pretending. What was with the book?"

"Oh. I was hiding it. Fujin said she'd buy it for me for Christmas if it was still here. I come check on it every day." He grinned and abruptly, changed the subject. "God, I need a cigarette."

"Me too."

They both looked at each other and laughed. 

As she stepped out of the door, she noticed that a light snow had begun falling. It was soft and pretty, gently landing on the streets and rooftops. 

The two of them stood outside the bookstore, Quistis leaning against a light post, and Seifer standing next to her. Snow swirled down to the ground and she wrapped her arms tightly around her. 

Seifer noticed, and put his arm around her, pulling her close to him. When his fingers touched her shoulder, it was electric. The kind of thing that only happened in stories. He must have felt it too, because he looked shaken. He shook his head, as if to clear it, and pulled out a lighter. He lit his cigarette, first, and then lit the one Quistis had pulled out. 

He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth, and then out of hers. Holding them in his hands, carefully away from his body, he caught his other hand up in Quistis's snow-flecked hair and kissed her.

Oh, my. He tasted like smoke and golden sunlight and winter. She moved closer to him and kissed him back, furiously. 

Finally, they broke apart, and Seifer handed her back her cigarette. A spark drifted off of it, falling to the ground below. She smiled, and they finished their cigarettes together. 


End file.
